![]() ![]() Of course Ms Dwyer expects answers, and so the script above resolves itself into an affirmation of Miles' certainty that they've got the right man, the "King Mob" they've been looking for. The problem is that whenever Miles barges his way into his captive's mind to prise from him the details of his cell - its origins, structure and planned future insurrections - instead of being presented with a smooth self-history from which any relevant information can be plucked like paragraphs from a book, he's met by a discontinuous jumble of conflicting narratives, a choose your own adventure set of identities that resist coherent interpretation: the hard facticity of the man in Room 101 pinned to his chair by electronic manacles, psychotropic drugs, and a gunshot wound, sharply contrasted with the hazy question of who said man actually is. The man in question's identity is still unconfirmed, and the future crushing of enemy forces, forces opposed to the mind-tyranny of the Outer Church, the secret rulers of the earth that Miles and Dwyer represent, hangs precariously in the balance, and if results aren't forthcoming soon, well. Dwyer’s threatening her poor, beleaguered second in command with her tit. "Now let me ask you again: is he this writer, this Kirk Morrison, is he Gideon Stargrave, or is he King Mob?"Īt this point in his interrogation of the leader of the terrorist cell incubating the future Buddha, Sir Miles is taking a severe ticking off from his kinky commanding officer, the were-bug, Ms. INCURSION ONE: IN WHICH MY GIRLFRIEND AND I CONTACT THE SPIRIT WORLD AND GET OUR FIRST BRIEF GLIMPSE BEYOND THE VEIL. Features Bomb Light in Faraway Windows: The Invisibles and Hauntology ![]()
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